


Somebody, anybody

by OverInspired (latelyllama)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23231815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latelyllama/pseuds/OverInspired
Summary: Peter Parker has no one. He's forced to scrape by in ways he never should have even had to consider, and all to support a woman who should be supporting him. It's foolish for him to think that his life would get better.But maybe that's all Peter is. A fool.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Somebody, anybody

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS! 
> 
> This story contains very dark subject matter so please read with caution.
> 
> ~~~

The bed sheets were a tangled mess. One leg was poking out and his chest was exposed as Peter stared straight up. The ceiling above him was grey, plain, completely nondescript. Nevertheless, it held the boys attention. It had to, otherwise he’d have to think about the man lying next to him, snoring softly. Or the stickiness on his bare chest, slowly drying. Or that last night…

Peter flinched himself out of those thoughts, opting instead to imagine patterns in the plain ceiling. It was all he could do to remain still when the man woke up, propping himself up on his elbow. He tried not to flinch as the man looked down on him with a smile like he was in bed with his wife. He ran a hand through Peter’s hair.

“Good morning” the man said.

It was like the man was waking up on his wedding day or something. Peter tried not to think about it, still staring straight up and not answering. The man didn’t seem to mind as he ran his hand down Peter’s cheek, before swinging his legs out from under the covers. The man stretched, as though he planned to go on with his day, like last night he hadn’t…

Peter again flinched himself away from the thoughts. There was no point to dwell on it. The man stood, and if Peter had been looking he would have gotten an eyeful of the man’s naked body.

“I’m gonna go take a shower” the man said, “unless you’d like to join me.”

Peter shook his head, the only sign he’d been listening. The stickiness on his chest was dry now. He did need a shower, but there was no way he’d do it here. It was against his rules.

Rule 5: Never shower anywhere near them.

He needed that rule because it was always the same. No matter how long they went the night before, if he showered there, it was one more chance for them to put their hands all over him, and Peter wouldn’t have that. Never again.

The man shrugged, stepping out of the bedroom. It was only when he heard the faint sound of running water that Peter finally moved. His clothes were in a pile at the foot of the bed. This guy had been nicer than most. What was his name again? John? Probably John, just go with John. John had let him undress himself. He hadn’t even wanted to go too far. Though he had insisted that Peter finish too, which he guessed was nice(?) but it had meant he’d been covered in himself. That was different, he supposed. Too bad the salty taste in his mouth was still lingering after the hours.

Peter pulled on his clothes, testing that the stickiness really had dried. He was lucky there was no hair to get tangled in it but it was still uncomfortable as it tugged on his skin. He didn’t bother to look around the room as he left, aside from making sure he had everything. The little lump of plastic tucked away in the pocket of his jeans was a comforting pressure on his leg as Peter walked down the hallway to the stairs. The door next to the bathroom was open slightly. Peter caught a glimpse of movie posters and action figures. God help any child of John’s.

The bathroom door opened and John stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Go ahead and wait in the kitchen. I’ll be down in a second” he said.

He past by Peter, giving his shoulder a squeeze in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture as he did so. Peter simply nodded and went downstairs.

He hadn’t seen much of the house last night, but in the light of day it was obviously a family home. There were pictures on the walls and books on the coffee table that could only belong to a kid. Peter wondered if the wife knew what her husband was getting up to when she was away. The kid probably had no clue. He just hoped the kid wasn’t involved.

He wasn’t waiting long before John entered the kitchen as well. He was bustling about, the coffee maker springing to life. Dressed as he was, Peter could almost mistake him for a regular person. John paused at one of the cupboards.

“I can get you some breakfast if you’d like” he said, gesturing to the boxes of cereal.

Lucky charms, definitely for a kid. Peter shook his head. That was against his rules.

Rule 4: Never eat or drink anything they offer.

John shrugged, returning to the coffee maker as it beeped. Mug of coffee in hand, he went through to the living room. Peter watched him as he picked up his wallet. He’d already paid Peter, as Peter insisted on up front, always. He pulled out a ten dollar bill and held it out for him.

“Well then get yourself something to eat” John said.

Peter cautiously took the money, tucking into the pocket of his jacket.

“I am sorry, by the way, if I was a little rough last night” John said.

Was John trying to apologise? Peter pushed down his scoff and instead spoke, his voice emotionless.

“No you’re not.”

John didn’t argue. He shrugged.

“Do I get a hug?” John asked.

Peter pushed down the flinch, knowing it was pointless. He stepped forward and John’s arms enveloped him. John gave him a firm squeeze.

“Hey, who’s my little man?” John said.

Peter felt one hand creep lower and lower. Of course. Just another excuse to touch him.

“I am” Peter said in the same emotionless tone.

“Yeah” John whispered into his ear.

With that, John let him go. Peter left the house and began the walk back to his home. There weren’t many people out on the streets, considering it was a weekend. He’d caught a glimpse of the time. 7:15am. It was almost a certainty that May would still be asleep by the time he got back, even with all the time it would take. Given the hour, the subway was mostly empty, which Peter was more than fine with. It meant that no one was sat next to him. He slipped in his earbuds. They weren’t connected to anything, but it meant he didn’t have to talk to anyone. Not that anyone would bother, even if they were wondering why a 12 year old boy was riding the train alone in the early morning.

His arms unconsciously wrapped around himself. It was all he could do, a pathetic attempt at self soothing which he knew wouldn’t work. All it would do was remind him of the hands on him, especially when the now dry stickiness pulled on his skin. Peter counted his money in his head. With what John gave him, there should be enough for rent. He’d just have to be a bit more frugal when it came to groceries. Hopefully May hadn’t had a party after he’d left the evening before. If she hadn’t, then there would still be stuff in the fridge.

His heart sank. May was expecting him to get her some stuff. Another quick count of his money and the problem was obvious. Rent. Food. May’s stuff. He could only afford two. He could feel himself start to bite his lip before he schooled himself. Remember your rules Peter. He settled for feeling his nails dig into his palms. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, just enough to hurt slightly.

It was just after 9 when Peter stepped into the diner. The waitress was nice and Peter couldn’t help giving her a small smile. He reminded her of May, in a completely incomprehensible way. Maybe it was how Peter wished May was. She didn’t question why he was alone and ordering breakfast for himself. Instead, Peter was sure she’d slipped him a little bit more food than what he’d ordered. Did he look that bad?

He pulled out his money and started counting things out, going through all of the bills he had to pay. He’d paid the gas and electric last week. The water bill was two weeks away. Did May even still use the home phone? He could probably get rid of that. All he needed to get through right now was the rent. After that was done, Peter might not even need to work the next night. A bang against the window made Peter startle. A man in his mid twenties grinned at him through the glass before entering the diner.

Peter couldn’t remember when he’d met Jordan, probably the first time May asked him to get her stuff for her. The man had a pointed face and seemed to have a thing for red shirts under black jackets. Peter didn’t understand it. It wasn’t as if he could be particularly choosy with his outfits.

“How’s it going little man?” Jordan asked as he slid into Peter’s booth.

“It’s alright” Peter said.

He didn’t particularly like Jordan all that much, but he was better than most given his trade.

“You look like shit by the way” Jordan said, before his eyes widened at the cash in front of Peter, “you sell your little ass last night?”

Peter couldn’t help the twitch as his hands closed up. Jordan took this moment to smirk, pulling the money towards him and counting it.

“Can’t believe that little thing of yours is worth … 200 and change. Not bad, little man” Jordan said.

He pocketed it. Peter’s breath caught. Jordan ignored him as he fiddled with the napkin in front of him.

“You know, it really should be May I meet here” Jordan commented.

“It’s never usually that much” Peter said, hoping Jordan was having a laugh.

“It’s not. I’m just collecting for a friend. May said something about a birthday gift for her favourite nephew” Jordan said, pushing the now folded up napkin towards Peter.

Peter scowled. His birthday was over a month ago. May had forgotten, as usual. Jordan held up his hands.

“It’s not my fault if she’s not got her priorities straight.”

Peter reached for the napkin and Jordan caught his hand. The contact was uncomfortable but Peter kept his face steady. Remember your rules.

“This is the good stuff Peter. Tell your aunt not to go in too deep, ok?”

Peter nodded, picking up the folded up napkin and slipping it into his pocket. The waitress gave him a big smile as he left.

What the hell was May doing? Why was she spending money they didn’t have on a birthday gift for him a month after his birthday? The zip of his jacket had broken so he pulled it tighter around him, fending off the chill of early September. Peter didn’t like his options now. Rent, food, May’s stuff. He’d paid for the stuff and he might be able to pull together enough for rent on Monday. However, if he wanted to get new groceries he’d have to work tonight. Peter hoped that May hadn’t raided the fridge while he’d been gone.

The apartment stank as soon as he pushed the door open. His nose curled, and all his previous hopes had been dashed. Everything was a mess. Empty and part empty bottles littered every available surface. Broken glass was on the floor by the trash can, and the living room carpet had a very large pool of vomit on it. Peter took a deep breath, narrowly avoiding a gag as the smell swept over him again. There goes any plans he had for the rest of the day.

Carefully, he picked his way through the mess of the living room. The hallway beyond had three doors. On the left was May’s room, the right was the bathroom. At the end was Peter’s room. It was the one room in the house that he’d made sure had a lock on it. It was also the one room in the hallway that wasn’t shut. Peter tried to calm himself as he slowly pushed his door open.

It didn’t look like the party had spilled into here, apart from the woman who was very much asleep in his bed. Peter froze. Not in here. There was no way that happened in here. Not in here! Peter inched forward but the woman didn’t even stir. She was lying on her stomach and Peter could see she wasn’t wearing a top. He carefully lifted a corner of the covers and, nope, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath either.

Peter was kicking himself. He must have left his door open or something. How else would one of May’s drunken party goers get in here? They’d never done it before. It wasn’t as if he could bolt it shut from the outside. He quickly made his way into May’s room. The curtains were open, letting in the morning light and sure enough, May was still asleep. He stood by her sleeping form and wondered why he had to be doing this.

“May wake up!” Peter said, pressing down on her shoulder.

May jerked awake. Almost as soon as her eyes were open, she was squinting. Peter saw they were red. God knows what she’d been doing while he was out last night.

“Shut the curtains Pete” May said as she looked around blearily.

She was hungover, from drink most likely.

“There’s a girl in my room” Peter said.

“I thought everyone went home” May said, “what time is it?”

“Just after ten thirty. Get her out, it’s my room!”

May winced as Peter spoke louder.

“You’ll just have to be sport, ok Peter?”

Peter bit back his response. What else could he say to May that he hadn’t already?

“Please?” Peter said.

When May focused on him again, her eyes lit up, almost like she was remembering something.

“Did you get it?”

Peter ducked his head. He nodded. She held out a hand expectantly. Peter let out a low breath before handing her the folded up napkin. May quickly found the small packet inside and her eyes went wide.

“Oh my little man” she cooed, “thanks for getting this for me. I’ve got a surprise for you coming later, since I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“When?” Peter asked quietly.

“He said he’d be here sometime in the afternoon” May said.

Peter froze. There was no way that May would do that. Not to him. Not here! May didn’t notice his panic as she fumbled with the packet in her hands. Eventually she tucked it into her pyjama pocket and rolled onto her back. Her eyes were closed and Peter was sure she was about to go back to sleep. His own bed was calling him, but he just needed to get rid of its current occupant. And clean the apartment. And meet this mystery man May had arranged. And clean himself up after…

“Wake up!” Peter said loudly, wrenching open his bedroom curtains to let the light in.

The woman jerked awake much like May had. Her eyes widened with shock when she saw him standing against the door frame.

“What’s a kid doing here?”

“You need to leave” Peter insisted.

To her credit, the woman immediately started moving so Peter shut himself in the bathroom. He needed to get clean, he needed to get John off of him, but there was no way he could do it with her still here. Peter ignored his reflection in the mirror above the sink as he listened to the footsteps passing by the bathroom door. The front door opened, then closed with a click.

The apartment was silent. Peter’s breathing filled his ears as he tried to calm down. There was so much he needed to do, but first things first, he needed to shower. The water wasn’t very hot but it was enough. Peter rid himself of the dried stickiness, made sure to wash his hair so he could pretend it was water and not John’s fingers running through it. He made sure to wash everywhere, even if it didn’t help with the way his skin was crawling. It was when he’d switched off the water that he finally had to look at himself in the mirror.

He was still short, his face still very much like a child. People said he looked nice, but he didn’t want to take those kinds of people at their word. His brown hair was clinging to his skin, getting to the point where he’d need to find some way to cut it. People said they didn’t like it long. Maybe he shouldn’t listen to them. His eyes, a nice chocolatey brown colour, captured his attention. Peter would see kids his age on the street. They all looked way different, their eyes holding nothing but hope and innocence. It was always a shock to see his own eyes. Maybe Peter was imagining things, but it was almost as though they didn’t hold anything at all.

It wasn’t one of his rules, but Peter always insisted on never wearing the same clothes the night after he was working. No matter if it would make him late for school, he would always change. He could barely look at himself at the best of times, and there was no way he would do it in the same clothes as when he had to…

Peter shook himself out of his thoughts as he pulled on a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans. The shirt was thin and the jeans starting to fray a little, but it was the best he could do. He pushed the door closed, and Peter made sure to bolt his door shut. He insisted on the lock. There was no way he was sleeping here when anyone could walk in, especially if May got it into her head to start inviting more strangers home. After quickly checking that nothing had happened in his bed, Peter shut the curtains and lay down on top of the covers. That’s when he felt the itch of tears.

This was alright. This wasn’t against the rules. The rules he’d made in a vain attempt to keep himself safe. The first two were the most important.

Rule 1: Don’t let them see

Rule 2: Don’t let them in

He would never let anyone see what he was feeling. He would never let anyone in close so they could hurt him more than he already was. Without these two simple rules, Peter would never have lasted this long. No one would ever see how he truly felt, and Peter wouldn’t let them in close enough for him to let his guard down. In here, however, in his room with the door locked and the curtains closed, he could let go.

The first sob came and he quietened it down. This was for no ones ears but his. Five minutes, that’s all he’d give himself before getting on with things. Five minutes to feel it all.

And feel it all Peter did.

5 minutes might have turned into 10 as Peter lay there. The tears wouldn’t stop. This was why he never let himself feel it all for more than 5 minutes, it was just too much. Everything had gone to shit and Peter never even knew when. Sure they’d never been the richest people, but at least when Ben was around, things had been alright. May still partied, got drunk and high and really wasn’t there all that much, but she was there more than she was now. Ben had worked hard, not really paying much attention to Peter but at least Peter was somewhat comfortable. At least Peter never had to…

Peter dragged himself out of bed, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes. Remember your rules Peter. Don’t let them see. Nobody sees you. It doesn’t leave this room. With a last shaky breath, he quickly squared everything away in his room, put his dirty clothes in the basket by the door and tidied up the small amount of mess that the woman had left. The rest of the apartment was next. Should he clear away the bottles or the vomit first? The smell decided that for him. He cleaned it up with a wet cloth, sprayed the last of the air freshener and opened a window, anything to get rid of the smell.

His stomach started growling as he cleared away the bottles. Putting them into trash bags, a voice that sounded like one of his classmates was telling him to recycle them. Peter chuckled. Before he might have listened to that voice. Now though, he just wanted the rubbish out of the apartment. So they were dumped in the large bins in the alley beside the building. On the way back up, he bumped into Mrs Mason from next door. Her small dog, Terry, jumped up, tail wagging excitedly.

“Hey there” Peter cooed, crouching so he could scratch behind the dogs ears.

Terry loved the attention. Mrs Mason watched them with a fond smile.

“Did you spend the night at a friend’s?” Mrs Mason asked.

Peter froze. It was a lie, one so easy to tell, that he’d almost forgotten who he’d told it to. Stealing a glance up at her, Mrs Mason hadn’t noticed his reaction.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Was that before or after she threw that party?”

“Before.”

Not a lie. He’d been out to work long before he knew May was having people over.

“I’m sorry. If I’d caught you, I’d have given you a heads up before you got home.”

“It’s alright Mrs Mason” Peter said.

Mrs Masons smile was warm. She ruffled his hair and didn’t notice when Peter ducked out of it after only a second to pet Terry some more.

“Come on then Terry” she said, giving the dogs lead a slight tug, “if you ever need anything Peter, please don’t be scared to ask.”

Peter tried to smile back at her. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Terry got to her feet and walked over to Mrs Mason, both of them leaving to do whatever they had planned. Peter watched them until they rounded the corner of the stairs, listened as they continued down until he couldn’t hear them. After the excitement of petting Terry, the apartment felt so empty. It still wasn’t clean, but the smell was better than when Peter first walked through the door that morning. His stomach growled again. Might as well have some food, especially for whatever May had planned for him this afternoon. When he opened the fridge, his heart sank. It was basically empty. Luckily he had some basic stuff stashed away in his room so he wouldn’t be too hungry, but it was still disheartening to see. It was a good thing he’d had breakfast at the diner. From his stash, he toasted two slices of bread and he was able to scrape out the last remnants of the tub of butter in the fridge. Buttered toast would have to do. He poked his head in on May as he retreated back to his room. She was still asleep, but Peter was happy to see no cord tied around her arm. At least she hadn’t used her stuff yet.

Bolting his door, he settled in for his meagre lunch. He had an old radio he’d salvaged from a dumpster on his desk. The receiver was a little busted so the sound was a little crackly, but Peter didn’t mind. He knew he could probably fix it if he had the time and the parts, and the noise filled the empty space of his room nice enough. The host was prattling on about something or other but Peter didn’t care. It was just nice to hear that, no matter how bad his life got, the world kept on turning.

Maybe he’d have a little nap. Depending on what the guy wanted this afternoon, he might have to work tonight. It was school tomorrow so he needed to have some rest. Hopefully May would try and wake him up for whatever it was. Or she would forget and he wouldn’t get it at all. That was fine, surprises weren’t his thing, especially when May spent _his_ money to organise them. Yeah, a nap sounded good.

_The man threw a handful of bills at Peter as the boy scrambled to gather his clothes. He stopped this just long enough to count the money, and shudder. This guy had went all out and now everything was sore. It hurt to move, pain shooting up from between his legs with the motion. His breath hitched. This was barely 100$. He looked up at the man, who had been watching the boy with a predatory gaze._

“ _This isn’t enough” Peter squeaked out.  
The man’s gaze hardened._

“” _What did you say?”_

_Peter gulped, feeling tears start to form._

“ _I d-did everything you wanted, a-and-d you d-did, and I-i th-thought that...”._

_The man towered over him. He grabbed Peter roughly and threw him back onto the bed. His face was pressed into the mattress and Peter felt the man on top of him. Hot breath filled his ear._

“ _Now you listen here you little whore. You get what you are given! Or do I need to teach you a lesson?”_

_Peter shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut._

“ _Well too bad. You’re getting one.”_

_Peter heard the man’s belt coming off again before hot breath was at his ear once more._

“ _Make a sound and you’re dead!”_

_Peter nodded and waited for round 2._

Peter woke with a start, heart pounding. The radio was still playing, but the host had changed, so it must be after 2pm. He sat up and ran his hands across his face.

He never did get paid for that night and the man hadn’t gone for round 2 like that. Instead, Peter still had the scars from the belt. Peter had been stupid. He should have just taken the money. Oh well, that’s why he has his rules now.

Rule 3: all the way costs double.

He had no idea if people did actually pay him double. All he knew was that he got more when he went that far. It was well deserved in Peters opinion. Money more than earned.

A distant knocking pulled him from his thoughts. Peter sighed, slipping out of his bedroom and walking to the front door. He could hear May stirring as he past by. Outside was a tall man with scraggly facial hair. His hands looked calloused and rough and when he spoke, his voice was gravelly. He was carrying a bag.

“You must be Peter.”

“Who’s asking?” Peter asked carefully.

“May said I’d be calling around. Something about a surprise.”  
Peter fought to keep from freezing up. Not here. Never here. Please not here! Before he could react, a surprisingly chirpy May appeared by his side.

“Paul! Good to see you!” she said.

She ushered the man, Paul, inside. Peter watched them bustle about in the living room, trying to keep calm. Just remember your rules, Peter. Don’t let them see. Don’t let them in.

“Peter, over here” May called to him.

Peter inched over to the living room. Between the air freshener and the open windows, it smelled a lot better than before, and neither May nor Paul noticed it. Paul was pulling things out of his bag and setting them up on the coffee table. Peter didn’t recognise them, but they didn’t look like they were for … that.

“May, what is this?”

May beamed at him.

“Happy birthday!” she hurried over and pulled him into a tight hug, “I love you, my little man.”

Peter tensed at the sudden contact. May was being unusually happy, which could only mean she had her evenings activities already sorted, tucked away in her front pocket.

“A birthday present, is it?” Paul said, “how old are young man?”

“12” Peter replied.

“Well, I’m sure all the ladies at school are gonna be all over you when they see this.”

When they see what? Paul pulled out a small piece of paper. On it was a drawing of stylised spider. Peters eyes widened when he realised what that meant.

“You’re getting me a tattoo?” Peter asked, frowning.

You’re spending my money on a tattoo was what he wanted to say. May nodded eagerly.

“It’s a Parker tradition to get a tattoo. I wanted yours to be a special occasion so why not a birthday present” she said.

Peter held his tongue. May seemed so happy right now, happy and not high. Maybe if he could somehow keep her like this then she wouldn’t need the stuff he got her. It was a foolish dream. Maybe that’s all Peter was. A fool.

The man finished setting up and gestured for Peter to sit next to him.

“Roll up your left sleeve” Paul said.

Peter did so, trying not to cringe when Paul touched his skin. The latex gloves felt weird, it always did, but Peter stayed completely still. If this was going to happen, then he didn’t want to mess it up.

“Ok, this won’t hurt a bit” Paul said as the needle kicked into life, a loud buzzing filling the apartment.

The man lied. It did hurt. Peter gritted his teeth as he felt the needles break through his skin. Paul shuffled next to him, pulling and wiping where he’d just finished, and Peter tracked his every move. May sat in the armchair in front of him with a huge smile on her face.

Peters eyes came to rest on the picture on the mantle piece. In it, Ben and May were smiling, with Peter nestled between them. It was the last picture with all three of them. May had been clean for the longest she’d ever been, Ben had been gunning for a promotion at work. Everything had been going well.

Until it didn’t.

Until Ben didn’t come home one day.

Until May relapsed. Hard.

What would Ben think if he saw them now? May watching with glee while her nephew got a tattoo at age 12, while Peter sat there trying to stay calm because the man wouldn’t stop touching him?

Peter grimaced. The latex against his skin was overwhelming. Surely it didn’t take this long to get a tattoo done. Paul leaned back, finally moving away from Peter who breathed out a shaky breath.

“Is it done?” May asked.

“Yep, that’s it” Paul said, fishing some gauze out of his bag.

“It’ll probably be sore for at least a few days but you’ll be fine” he said as he wrapped his arm and covered the ink.

Peter couldn’t help but track his movements. The wrapping was sloppy. The gauze pad wasn’t secured properly and would probably come loose later. When he was done, Paul began packing up. May beamed, squeezing Peter into her side, not noticing the wince Peter tried to hide as she bumped his arm.

“You’re just like me now” she said, pulling up her left sleeve.

In the same place as Peter’s, May had a tattoo of a small bird sitting on a branch. It looked more professionally done than Peter’s was. It was probably done back when May was clean and able to think. Paul finished and May led him to the front door. Peter took this time to retreat back to his bedroom.

Bolting the door, he carefully prodded at the bandage. The dull throbbing flared up at the touch, shooting up and down his arm. Peter let out a ragged sigh, flopping down on his bed.

Why would May waste the money on a tattoo? Family tradition or not, did May not realise that they couldn’t just throw money around? No, she probably didn’t. Honestly, she’s probably forgotten where her money comes from, Peter thought. First it came from Ben, now it came from Peter. May was either completely oblivious to how Peter was earning it, or she didn’t care.

Peter’s fists balled up and he smacked them down on his mattress. His eyes itched and burned. Why was this his life? It should be the other way around! May should be the one earning money to support them. She should be the one worrying about whether or not her nephew was in with the wrong crowd, or getting drunk and high and generally led astray. Peter shouldn’t have to live like this!

Why couldn’t she just get clean? Why couldn’t she just try harder? She’s done it before, so why couldn’t she now? Did she not care about her nephew? Did she not care that she was dragging him down and making him have to…

Peter wanted to scream. She said she didn’t know what she’d do without him, but he knew exactly what he would do without her. He’d be able to live a somewhat normal life, that’s what he’d do! If this was how she wanted to be, then that was fine with Peter. If it killed her, that was fine too. Maybe it would be better for Peter if he didn’t have May.

Peter sat up in a flash, the sudden movement making him dizzy. The thoughts buzzing around his head stopped, leaving him alone in his quiet room. What was he thinking? May wasn’t perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she was all he had. Was it not May who had held him all night after Ben died? Was it not May who came into school when it got too much for him in the weeks after? She’d even done that a few times when she was high, so she must care about him. Right?

He got up and moved to his desk. As much as he’d insisted on a lock for his bedroom door, he’d pushed even harder for a lock on his desk drawer, to the point where he’d managed to install it himself. It necessary after the time when May found where he kept his money and wasted it all. That had been a fun month without heat. Peter pulled out all of the money he’d saved. It wasn’t much, but he counted it all the same. He had hoped to add last nights earnings to it, but Jordan and May had seen to that.

With a sigh of relief, he found there was enough for rent, but there wasn’t much more. The water bill was due next week, and the apartment had no food. After school tomorrow he’d pay the rent, then see what groceries he needed and then… Peter bit his lip and pressed his palms to his eyes.

He would need to work tomorrow night.

Peter choked out one sob. Only one. That’s all he was giving himself. Through the crack in the curtains, he could see night settling in. He changed into a pair of pyjamas, brushed his teeth and climbed into bed, taking care not to lie on his left side. His busted up old alarm clock said it was just after 8pm, but Peter was exhausted. His eyes fell shut as he tried to will himself to sleep.

It’s not as if he was going to any tomorrow night.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was alright. If I need to update the tags, please let me know.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> I was tempted not to post this until I had more written but I wanted to know what people thought before I continued. It's not what I usually write so I hope it's ok.


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